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[Dwarmin]

"...I'd surely call you a madwoman, but I've seen stranger things myself...there's dark and odd things about the world, and you'd be more than mad to let them pass you by. Your words make sense to me-the man, if he is one, is not quite what he seems. We will surely find the truth with the help of your Rangers...and hopefully, find the aims of this man, before...well, something even worse happens...I will have to speak to my fellows, one of which likely knows more of this than both of us together...

One question I have-were the beasts that bedeviled your camp of four legs, scaled faces, and terrible barking? The foes we fought were somehow canine, and nothing decent on this clean Earth."

After a moment of silence, Kat seemed eager to tell her own tale to the ranger woman.

"I knew it was not an easy thing, opening up that truth upon me...and I thank you for it. Would you hear my tale of stranger things as well? Some things are...hard to forget...not easy to tell to others. But, if another person bears the weight of the story, it's not so bad. If only to convince yourself it's not all in your head. What do you say?"

[Silcugar]

Brussen
^Tyr

“Oh, but the brooch is so much more interesting! Surely, a legendary highlander would handily best me in such a contest?” he taunts, not without humor. “I’m afraid it’s the brooch or nothing, my friend. Maybe I should seek out one of your companions?”

Ranger's Cabin
^Kat

She shuffles a bit, uncomfortable with speaking so freely. “It was not easy, but I don’t tell you this for your sake, but because my brother is the dearest thing to me. I’d get mauled again if it meant he’d be safe.” She sits down, content that she’s made herself clear.

“The creatures you speak of, while worrisome in numbers, are somewhat mundane. They’re called newts, or whip dogs. They have a crude intelligence, but only use it to concoct poisons and petty ambushes. You encountered them at night, perhaps dusk? They can shimmer out of sight for a time, where there is little light. If they attacked you, it was bad luck or they were desperate for something you had. Cowardly beasts, but not the worst the valley holds. You’ll find this valley hosts a number of unearthly horrors…”

At your offer, she tenses up. Her ambivalence was palpable, but there was some kinship between you two that was difficult to explain. “I’ve talked volumes already, and so it’s only fair I hear your story. What strange things occur far from my home?”

[S34N1C]

*sigh* "Very well, I suppose. "

[Beirus]

"Free drink is always good." Rathgar states simply, agreeing to accompany the men and following them to the lumber camp.

[Dwarmin]

Kat searches her memory...

"Well, it was a time ago, and I was following the van of a troop of Militiamen out of the city of Caer Van Duchys-most as a banner woman, bard and camp follower. A position I've been in for near all of my adult life, in truth. On the surface of things, we were merely set to fill in the old maps by exploring the Lost Lands, the places few could bear to in-habitat. The truth was a poorly kept secret-we were under the command of a woman named Cassandra Foot, self proclaimed master of the 'Darker Arts'-she was looking for something, out in those horrible wastes, of which I have no idea to this day what she was...

In any way, things turned bad quick. We met some creatures you describe as Unearthly Horrors-they attacked us, always in the night, and carried men away...some'a they'd often kill them, but slow, and where we could hear...I personally saw what looked like a giant hairy spider, with the upper body of a woman, but the head of a spider as well...it bit the head off a man near clean while I watching...and other things I mostly heard of. A wolf-shape made of fire that burned men alive by merely being near. A cloud of scrap-metal that looked sort of like a snake, and crushed men in it's insides. A man-shape made of bright silver water, who could make his hands into any weapon, and cut soldiers to pieces...men took sick, and their flesh twisted like the abominations. We learned not to drink the water, or eat even things that looked healthsome.

We might'a weathered the beasts and the illnesses, but Cassandra Foot was worse than them all, if you can believe it. Her beauty, and she was quite a looker in that regard, was dark and beguiling towards men-and not in a wholesome way. It made them more ready for bloodletting, made their tempers explosive, gave even gentle men a taste for casual cruelty toward others. We most worried in the end, she'd turn us all into monsters as bad as the things around us. Many men in that army killed themselves, rather than fall to her glam. We left a bracer of men hanging on trees, or fallen on their swords, every time we pulled camp. Me, I just played the music...you'd surely not believe that music can be horrible, but the things she made me play were. The sounds were not right, like she ruined to the sound just being around them-hour and hour, till my fingers bled, I had to play. She seemed to ruin things just be existing, a walking ruin was she...I hadn't believed she was no more than a charlatan at first, but something happened that proved to me a great evil exists, a great darkness...

See, once a man-a brave man-tried to kill her instead, despite the fact she always seemed to know the deepest sort of thing you were thinking, just by looking at ya. He got within three paces of her with his sword in hand, before she deigned to notice. Well, she just sort of snapped her fingers, right? Or, maybe she said something, did something else...I don't know...but the man started screaming. His guts then crawled right out of his throat, and wrapped around his neck, choked him to death. Never seen any 'o that like before, surely. I'd not imagine a worse way to die, her looking down on him the whole time, like it was the most interesting thing she ever saw. I'd stopped playing too, out of pure fright, but she turned to me then and said I should continue-unless I'd want the same, or 'better' as she called it...the look in those pretty blue eyes she gave me, was empty of anything human.

Well, soon as I got a chance, next morning, I joined the rest and we snuck away from that cursed crusade. Looking over our shoulders, as if you'd expect her to come flying after us on a pair of black wings, smiling that empty smile. Those who didn't die, and didn't desert, I've heard followed her down to the depths of the Hells-and maybe serve her still, though I also heard no one came back with her in the end. Me? I keep my head down, and I don't speak about it much. She always said she could hear you...no matter how far you tried to run...

It's an ugly story, and no less pretty for being told in the light. Somehow I think the look in the wolfs eyes you saw, is akin to the one I saw in that womans eyes. And, just as hard to forget.

...

Thank you for listening, all the same. You've brought ease to one...younger and less hardened than yourself...I too had a brother, like you...I lost him, maybe to death, but I do not accept that in my heart...and I know what'd people like us would do for family."

She did feel better for having told the story, and now she fell silent, waiting for the Rangers response.

[NRDL]

Dogs.  That was what Nix was reminded of when talking to these locals, well trained dogs following commands. Any sort of secret, no matter how mundane, must be scrutinised. Nix and his fellow lairds were in the middle of a village full of people with uncertain motivations and agendas, a dangerous position. Hoping to ascertain even more, he goes in search of the Seer himself, and ask to be "enlightened" further regarding the torch.

((Also, do I still have my spear on me?))

[Dwarmin]

((Also, do I still have my spear on me?))

((Bro, I'm sure we're running a faith based RPG inventory system It's like, if you ask, he has to answer...but otherwise, assume that yeah, you picked it up/are carrying it with you? Unless you specifically stated that you did not, or the GM specifically stated it was lost. It's like how I'm NOT asking if I was able to recover crossbow bolts or how many I have. I'm just assuming I always have enough...

GM correct me if I'm wrong here.))

[Silcugar]

((Dwarmin is correct, so long as you don’t have anything outlandish or crazy beneficial, I’ll probably allow it. As I said in the OOC, I’m pretty lenient regarding inventories. Thank you for being attentive, though!))

Brussen
^Tyr

“That’s a good sport. Let’s hope you are as good a shot as you are covetous of jewelry!” He lets out a burly laugh, slapping Tyr’s shoulder as he guides him to the treeline east of the village. Strangely enough, a small crowd has already gathered…

“Hope you aren’t afraid of an audience,” he says as he waves to the people. It was a meagre show of children and old women, but the hedge knight hammed it up all the same, drawing his bow with a flourish. “Throwing daggers, hm? I’ll give you ten paces to make up for their lacking range.” His japing was relentless, but he sobered up quickly as he knocked an arrow.

Three crude marks were carved into as many trees, and Oswald made a show of measuring each shot. Two arrows hit near the mark, but one was way off, though it did hit the tree. The crowd was moderately amused, and Oswald, forever the showman, gave a ‘humble’ bow as he motioned you forward. “Remember, now, only ten paces!”

Brussen Lumber Camp
^Rathgar

Rathgar found the lumberjacks to be a quiet lot, for a time. He split logs with man half his size, and at times the two worked so quickly that they were afforded ample time to sit in silence while more trees were felled. This silence seemed to make the man uncomfortable, so he offered some small talk. He spoke of work, of the strange events marked ‘signs of Orren’ by the prophet, and slowly segued to questions regarding Rathgar himself. He didn’t seem as fervently respectful towards the Lairds as the prophet’s personal flock, but he held a measure of awe at the thought of a society of heroes.

“He says you lot will’n be striking evil from th’ forest, yeah? You got strong wizards, like those in the stories? They got long beards and throw fire, they say.”

Ranger's Cabin
^Kat

As Kat’s story unfolded, the ranger’s face adopted a more knowing, empathetic look, though not so far as too call it soft. It was the face of one hardened by tragedy, one bereft of emotion most times, but one that bore eyes that looked past most trivial things, and sought the core of one’s character.

Kat was a bard, so much was plain, but this story was no constructed epic or sorrowful poem, not that the ranger could tell anyway. She sat in silence, staring again towards the lonely window for a time, but back to Kat when she spoke. “It’s strange to say it, but evil was plainer once. In the time of Orren, men were heroes, and they fought an evil who took obvious forms. Now, though, we have evils mixed with men. They’re quieter now, they take their time and wait for folk to forget that evil, in fact, has not been scoured from this world.

“Your Cassandra Foot, and my burned man… Do they compare to the beasts and horrors that bear an obvious face? One is plainly evil, and the other takes the form of a man or woman, but their evil is both abominable and hidden.

“You lairds… I don’t know that you have the power to truly eradicate evil. But I have to hope that, in time, these hidden evils will come to fear you. Maybe then, families like mine and yours would find some measure of peace.” She, too, looked relieved for speaking her mind more freely. Something of a faint smile appeared on her face as she finally spoke, “My name is Naira, by the way.”

Brussen Brewhouse
^Nix

You find the seer easily enough. He attends a small group near the grand construction, giving advice and wisdom to those that seek it. When he spots you, he seems as rapt with joy as when he first saw you. “Ah, a great laird come to see our monument, perhaps?” You ask about the torch, and the seer is happy to oblige. “It is a curious thing, yes? O’ its radiance is everlasting, and soon it will be exemplified by our humble works!” He gestures at the beacon, his audience murmuring with excitement. “I only know that it was found near me at my death’s door, perhaps a light come to guide me back to the land of the living? Ah, but I am merely the bearer of the torch, meant to run the light to the proper place. And what so proper as this?” His rhetoric continues for some time, further impressing the village folk, but granting you no real insight to the facts of the torch.

[S34N1C]

Throw my knives at the targets. Aim carefully before each shot.

[Dwarmin]

It was strange that a conversation with a near stranger had put into true words the beliefs of the Lairds that Kat had been trying to grasp and understand for herself. She had always been a runner and a wander, never a fighter. She had no cause worth fighting for, nothing she deemed above her own selfish existence, the next meal, a solid roof, a warm bed, and perhaps someone to share it for the night...it was clear she had some thinking to do about her future...Kat had warmed to the Ranger fairly quickly, but for a young woman who had grown up without a mother, even such dimmed empathy as Naira's was a precious gift to her, and it showed. No doubt the Ranger was used to that look, the lonely shade of the orphans of the waste, and had hardened herself against it. It was not always sincere, and not always safe.

"I reckon, Evil never changes, really, and it never goes away. It always needs men and women to drive it back into the darkness, and watch for it, until it lurks back out again. So I've been told. I'm not been one of those people, but maybe now that I'm a Laird I can be.

...It's a true delight to have met you, Ranger Naira. You can call me Kathryn. My own Ma' didn't live...longer than it took to birth me, but that was the name she gave me before she went, and so I give it to you before I leave...by the door, of course." She mentioned, with a small smile. "Unless, you'd rather we speak more on things, and I could...keep you company. Or you could listen to me play my notweapon, if you've ever had the pleasure of listening to a Bard. My skills lie in the direction of song, not story.

You could probably tell that..."

[NRDL]

"When you were attacked, oh vaunted seer, by evil forces, where was this? Where was the, erm, place of your...revelation?"

[Beirus]

Rathgar gives short answers to the questions about himself and continues to listen to the man talk before answering with as many words as he had spoken previously combined. "That's the plan as I understand it, but it won't be just us. Once we report in, or if we fail to report in, they'll send more Lairds. And I haven't had the chance to meet any strong wizards yet. So, what do you think of this Seer? And what is it like to live here?"

[Silcugar]

Brussen
^Tyr

Taking the ten paces, you realize that you would be a match even without the handicap. Still, no use in risking the brooch, eh? Three daggers planted on each target, one hitting the very centre. The crowd lets out some faint cheers, and even Oswald whoops in revelry. He pats you on the back and, to his credit, wears defeat with humility.

“Ah, looks like your skills weren’t so exaggerated after all. But, let’s hope you are so accurate against moving opponents!” He retrieves the amulet from his pack, handing it over with a bow.

Brussen Lumber Camp
^Rathgar

“Oh? You’n yours want’n to clear th’ valley so much? Good, all th’ more help, then.” Even a man as simple as this pauses at the mention of the seer, but only in careful thought to his words. “Th’ man is really wantin’ the best for us, I think. I think he’s right, else I’n not be out here busting my ass for th’ buildin’s. We got a real shot now, b’fore it wasn’t so nice. Scrapin’ by, oh, times ‘re harsh for a little family like ours…” He displays the palms of his hands, blistered and worn. He’s even missing a few fingers. “My hand’s ‘er all I got, sides my nephews. If’n I can help bring something nice to them… Well, I think it’s a good deal, right?”

Ranger's Cabin
^Kat

Naira resumes her original hard expression as she slowly rises from her seat. She tightens her bandages firmly, looking to the window once again. “I’m afraid the time for song is not here, Kathryn. It would not feel right to indulge in these things while we face such hidden dangers. Even more, I fear we should keep this meeting brief, since I suspect the burned man keeps eyes on all those who do not fervently support him.” She places her medical supplies on a table, stern look softening some as she continues. “With luck, we can extinguish these hidden dangers with what we find. Then there will be time for song and revelry, and we can talk freely.”

Brussen Monument
^Nix

The seer adopts a look of distress, tone matching as he speaks. “O’ heroic laird, I worry you might seek to end the beast at my behest! As you might want, being a force of good, like Orren, the one who scoured the great Evil. But please, I beg you restraint, for this being is of such enormous evil that even the five of you would struggle to defeat it!” He raises his arms, once again inciting some fervent prayers in his crowd. “I was, before my visions, a hedge wizard wandering the forest with recklessness. O’ how prideful! Thinking my magic a defense, I sought herbs of arcane significance. I could not, even in my best state, retrace the steps to this place of my scarring. My mind was warped, for bad and good, and so my bearings were completely shot!” Tears come to his eyes, and some of the followers sob. “But… My revelation! So beauteous and fine, in a tranquil clearing I thought the place of my death. I sat there, ready for the calm reprieve of the end… And, I must admit, the next part is blurred, as the being beyond magic, its complex visage too much for my mind to hold, imparted the Signs of Orren to me, and gave me the sole purpose as the Prophet of Orren!” He lowers his arms and restrains his frantic movement, quieting his voice to rational levels. “Even with this wisdom, I am no tracker. That tranquil clearing, though clearly significant at the time, would be hard to spot from any other. You may ask the rangers who rescued me to guide you… But they are a sober and cynical crew. I doubt, you being a laird and inseparable from my cause, that they would lend aid. Even if you managed to convince them, I fear they might try something unspeakably dastardly! O’ poor lost souls…” He crumples to the ground, causing a few of the followers to rush to his side. He waves them away, weakly, rising to continue with a more sober tone. “Their loss causes me great sorrow, but the light reaches all places eventually. The rangers are not here, away on some hunt. You may seek out my original savior, but she is infirm by some beast, at my fault, I’m sorry to admit. She was so vigilant, protecting me in my sorry state. It is sad that the attack affected her… well, not to speak ill, but her once sharp mind was dulled by the maiming. She is paranoid, now, haunted by some miserable dream. She distrusts all that I stand for, keeping to herself in her cabin. Keep this in mind if you seek her out.”

[S34N1C]

"Thank you good sir. I'm glad you accept defeat so humbly. Many a lesser man would try to dispute. However, may I ask exactly what you mean by your last statement?"

[NRDL]

"Thank you, seer.", Nix says with a bow.

Seek out the cabin of this injured girl at once.